


I'm Waiting For That Final Moment

by dimplelegacy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AcePilotKeithWeek, Asexual Shiro, Band Fic, Biromantic Shiro, Brief mention of HIV, Day 5: Love/Acceptance, Gay Hunk, Grayromantic Keith, Kissing, M/M, Or at least she wants to be, Painful 80's references, Swearing, Transgender Pidge, Transvestite Lance, accepting yourself, asexual Keith, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 04:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12951381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimplelegacy/pseuds/dimplelegacy
Summary: It's the year of 1986. Keith is 20. It will be one of the worst years of his life.But then it gets better.





	I'm Waiting For That Final Moment

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for [Aceinspacefest](https://aceinspacefest.tumblr.com//). I was pretty iffy about writing for this because I'm not asexual myself and I was afraid of not portraying the characters and their feelings like they were supposed to be portrayed. Inspiration is a sneaky thing, I'm afraid, so here I am. I shamelessly used my own feelings and thoughts about sex, mixed with the facts that I do know about asexuals. And I believe that every human is different when it comes to sex and sexuality, so there is really no one right format or way to portray it, especially when you throw things like time period, the age of the character and their identity into the mix. So I advise you to take note of all that as you read my story. And if even after that, you feel like I have screwed up or possibly even insulted you because of how some parts are written, then feel free to give me constructive criticism.  
> The terms in the tags might be wrong too. It's only the matter of how I see them and I'm unfortunately not an expert. 
> 
> A few details: the clumsy references to Unicorn and Vampire are because of [this wonderful fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12033807/) by [chiapslock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiapslock/). My friends and I had a small agreement to do something for that cute fic during this December and I think it's fitting for me to do it here because of all of those friends, including the author of that fic, are mods for Aceinspacefest. Of course, the first thing I should do would be to finally leave a comment on it... Look at me being the laziest person on Earth. Anyway, go check it out, it's so cute and cracky in the best of ways. 
> 
> The song title is of course from New Order's song "Bizarre Love Triangle".
> 
> I appreciate all the comments if you have thoughts to share after reading this fic of mine. And thank you for reading.  
> And if you wanna talk to my noob-ass, come the dark side aka [Tumblr](http://captain-rinsrins.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ayayrins/). 
> 
> Have a hella happy holidays.

 

It's the year of 1986. Keith is 20. It will be one of the worst years of his life.

 

 

 

 

. 

 

 

 

 

He's the most silent guy in the room, with the bluest eyes and his overgrown black mullet is breaking the line between cool and ridiculous. He has a scar on his jawline and other people tell him it's "bitch'n". He doesn't even know the girl who invited him, but he came anyway because he's _twenty years old,_ he has to do something, right?

 

Two hours later he's looking himself in the mirror, the bad lighting of the bathroom swallowing his form, but the hickey on his neck is like a neon-coloured dirty mark.

 

He starts to think that maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

 

He dashes out of the bathroom, out of the apartment, ignores the girl's questions, _Baby, where are you going,_ only glances at her lips, the lipstick she has, same lipstick that he can taste in his own mouth. Cherry-flavored.

 

When he gets outside, he throws up into the nearest bush.

 

 

 

 

. 

 

 

 

 

_He doesn't want to do it. He doesn't want to do it. He doesn't want to, he doesn't, he doesn't –_

 

The man's eyes are absolutely divine, mostly green but there's a faint ring of brown around the pupil. It's a strange detail for Keith to notice; he didn't think men could be as beautiful as women.

 

_Why doesn't he?_

 

"Clearly you like New Order." The man nods at Keith's shirt. "Why don't you come to my place? I have the Brotherhood album."

 

He isn't a bad guy. It's the second time Keith has met him. There's only something about his smile, a flash of something predatory. Or warm, too hot. Maybe mix of all of them.

 

"Why not," Keith answers.

 

 

 

 

. 

 

 

 

 

"The fuck is wrong with you?"

 

"Don't touch me," he hisses, almost spitting - that's how panicked he is. He feels feral and his skin burns, he swears he can feel it burning and he's afraid of the guy's hand pressing on it, making him scream. "Don't fucking touch me."

 

"I thought- I didn't mean to-" the guy stammers, looking around the room like he is the one who is looking for an escape route.

 

Keith stares at his naked chest and wants to close his eyes from it, from all of it. He hopes that if he closed his eyes, the guy would automatically do it too and they could both forget that the other one exists.

 

_Guy? Guy? He has a name, why can't you remember it anymore?_

 

There is no room inside his mind for minor matters like names, not when it's occupied with letters of N and O.

 

"It's disgusting," he says because it's all the explanation he has. He knows it's not completely correct either, but right at this moment, it's the primal thought.

 

The guy is silent for a moment before he yanks his shirt and belt from the floor. Keith can feel him seething. He backs away, making himself smaller on the floor.

 

"No," he hears the guy growl out. " _You're_ the one who's disgusting, pal. I'm used to people calling me that, but you're the one who let me take you here and kiss you, you kissed me  _back,_ so don't try to act like you're any better than me." The guy takes a deep breath and then tosses Keith's shirt on his lap. "Get the hell out."

 

Keith forgets to put on his socks. He grabs his shirt, jacket and shoes as he goes, and only dresses them back on when he's outside.

 

It's cold and he blows into his palms as he walks home. He passes a park and writes the word "disgusting" on the snow before he keeps going.

 

When morning comes, he deletes the accident from his mind. He isn't disgusting, he was just confused, maybe a bit too drunk.

 

Right?

 

 

 

. 

 

 

 

 

 

"I'm sorry. I'm too ugly," the girl says.

 

Keith can't remember her name anymore either. But she has tears in her eyes, she's hurt, disappointed, and Keith didn't want any of that to happen.

 

"No, Jesus- You're not ugly, don't say that," he keeps his voice calm as his panic grows.

 

"There must be something wrong when you don't want me!" she snaps, her ear-rings shaking as she turns her red face towards Keith. Keith focuses on them, avoiding her eyes.

 

"No, there..." he pauses before he says something that sounds like a truth but feels and tastes like a lie. "There's just something wrong with me."

 

 

 

 

. 

 

 

 

 

It isn't just men. It happens with women too.

 

He likes both but he's too broken to care. It doesn't feel important. Only important thing is that he can't let them touch him. He wants to look, admire. People can be beautiful, pieces of art. But when they touch him, they become monsters.

 

_Don't touch me. Don't ruin it._

 

 

 

 

 .

 

 

 

 

The year 1986 ends and he hopes it would have been a dream.

 

 

 

 

. 

 

 

 

 

He has never had real friends. He has had acquaintances, someone to share a smoke or have small talk with. But never anything more. He feels like anything more would kill him.

 

But he's wrong. He finds that out in March of the year 1987 when his neighbour comes to complain him about the noise he is making, or so he thought.

 

When he opens his door, instead of complaining, she asks, "You play the violin?"

 

It isn't really none of her business but he's having a good day so he tells her that he's played it since he was 6. His mother taught him before she died. They didn't have much money, enough for food, but not enough for toys or children's books so playing was one of Keith's few pastimes.

 

He watches her listen to him, ignoring the fact that he hasn't even invited her in yet, seeing her sway on her short legs like a restless soul. "You should join our band," she suggests.

 

Her name is Katie, but everyone calls her Pidge. She plays the drums and sings some of the songs. She takes him to their rehearsal place and introduces him to others -- Lance is an arrogant 19-year-old, youngest of them, and he plays the piano. Hunk, who is even a bigger music freak than Keith, plays cello half the time and bass guitar the other half.

 

Then there is Shiro, who is still in Hokkaido, visiting his parents and having a small road trip through the rest of the Northern Japan. Pidge tells Keith that he has the perfect raspy voice that would be suitable for any music genre and he also plays acoustic guitar from time to time.

 

For the first time in years, Keith feels like he has a place somewhere other than in the silence of his own apartment.

 

 

 

 

. 

 

 

 

 

The members of the band are young like Keith. They want to go to places, meet other people, hook up, while Keith would be content to just stay in their private little bubble.

 

He finds himself back in the same, awful frame of the nightmare that he has tried to escape, because _this is what happens when you start trying to please people,_ when he pushes away a girl that pins him against a wall. He pushes too hard, she falls on her rear and interrupts the chatter in the living room. She calls him a freak, _how can a guy_ **_not_ ** _want a girl_ , and he knows she says it because her ego has been crushed but so do her words crush his faith, his belief in himself that he can interact with other people after all.

 

When he sees Lance give him a judgmental look from across the room, he flees.

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

 

"The hell is wrong with you?" Pidge asks him, Lance and Hunk behind her as they stand in front of Keith in his apartment. They have come to check on him because he has missed practice two times, a lie about him having flu too obvious for them to buy it.

 

He has known them only for a month and they can already see through him.

 

Pidge's words are too similar to every burning, insulting question he has heard others utter to him. “I don’t know!” he blows up without meaning, bolting up from the couch, making his friends flinch; he’s not like this, he’s the silent, gentle guy.

 

He loves them so why is he yelling at them?

 

Because he’s so sure that they don’t love him back.

 

“Do you think I like to be this way? Do you think it’s easy for me?”

 

Pidge and Lance seem confused, shaken by his outburst. Hunk is the one who comes closer to Keith and Keith thinks he's brave because right now he must look like a madman. 

 

“Keith. We’re your friends, remember? Chill.” The words aren’t much but Hunk’s tone hasn’t changed and that’s what makes Keith stop. Usually, when his temper raises its’ ugly head, people run away. Hunk slowly touches his arm and Keith lets it happen. “But we can’t understand anything if you don’t tell us.”

 

So he tells them. All of it, maybe too much. Because he has nothing to lose anymore.

 

He has tried to pretend, for years.

 

He doesn’t like to be touched. The idea of sex repulses him, though he now understands that it doesn’t mean the people who like sex are repulsing.

 

He doesn’t like kissing either.

 

He’s afraid of meeting new people, maybe because of that. At day he’s fine, but when it turns into night, he feels like everyone is looking for a piece of meat to chew on, not friends, and that scares him, makes him feel like a child among threatening adults.

 

He’s a freak.

 

“You’re not a freak,” Lance says. There is no trace of judgement in his eyes anymore. “You’re just… a bit different from others. Like we are.”

 

Keith’s eyes widen and he turns to look at Pidge and Hunk.

 

“Yeah,” Pidge says, sighing. “A bit different. Outsiders.”

 

“But it means that you’re not alone anymore, Keith,” Hunk smiles at him. “If it’s up to us, you’ll never be alone again.”

 

“Yeah, we’re here to stay,” Lance nods.

 

Pidge perks up and smiles too. “You’re part of the posse now. I can’t believe you ever thought even for a second that you weren’t.” She and the boys look at each other before she asks Keith, “Can we hug you?”

 

Something warm squeezes his heart. Affection. For the first time in years, he wants someone to hold him. “Yeah,” he croaks, blinking rapidly to keep tears out from his eyes.

 

They are merciless. All of them tackle him into a hug on the couch, holding him tightly. They start to laugh, Pidge actually giggles. “I love you guys,” Hunk says, and soon Keith is laughing too.

  
  


.

 

 

 

 

In time, he finds out that Pidge hopes that she was born as a boy. Sometimes the desire to be a boy is so strong that she cries herself to sleep.

 

Hunk only likes men. He loves women but in a different way, non-sexual way. But he can never act on it because he’s too scared of the virus. This is the first time Keith hears the word HIV. It makes his stomach turn, takes him back to the night when he almost had sex with the green-eyed guy. Now his fear doesn’t feel so ridiculous.

 

Lance sometimes wears women's clothes, in his small apartment, the ones he stole from his mother. He doesn’t know why, according to him, it’s not the same thing that Pidge struggles with. He likes being a man. But he also likes the feel of skirt’s hem against his thighs, to walk on high heels.

 

Suddenly, Keith isn’t alone, just like they promised him. They’re all a bit weird, _different_ and at the same time they’re not. They’re just humans. He is just a human.

 

He accepts them unconditionally.

 

 

 

. 

 

 

 

 

It takes another week before Shiro comes back from Japan. Others are excited, they need their lead singer badly.

 

Keith is nervous. He feels like he has earned his place in the band, in their _posse,_  but he feels like he needs to prove that, prove himself to Shiro. The absence of the man has created a tense image of him inside Keith’s mind, almost like he is going to meet someone with great authority.

 

They notice how antsy he is.

 

“Shiro knows us and accepts us,” Lance tells him. “Just like he will accept you.”

 

Keith doesn’t know if Shiro is _different_ too. They haven’t told him.

 

They go meet Shiro at the airport. A big man emerges from the crowd, part of his hair shaved while his bangs are long, like a floof on top of his head. His eyes are grey and when he sees them, his smile is bright. Exhausted from the flight, but kind.

 

 _Oh no,_ Keith thinks because Shiro is one of the most beautiful people he has ever seen.

 

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

Shiro is many things.

 

His real name is Takashi Shirogane, but he uses the name Shiro because it’s easier for Americans to pronounce.

 

His voice is just as scratchy and smooth as Pidge described to Keith. It goes well with the music they play, well with how Keith plays his violin.

 

Shiro loves to hear Keith play the violin. He tells Keith it's one of his favourite instruments but he never got the hang of it when he was a child so his parents gave up.

 

Shiro’s fingers are beautiful when he plays the guitar. “It’s easy,” he says, dismissive. But Keith disagrees. It’s art and art is never easy.

 

Just like when his friends touch him, he doesn’t feel uncomfortable when Shiro hugs him. What he does find alarming, is the fact that he often hopes Shiro would hug him a bit longer, maybe a bit tighter. He has finally understood what kind of touch he can and can't tolerate. How can one person march into his life and change that?

 

Shiro is an affectionate guy. He rarely gets mad, he’s always gentle with Keith and his smiles are addictive; when his face is back to neutral, Keith almost wants to ask him to smile a few seconds more. Those smiles are also contagious; Keith always smiles back.

 

Always, when he sees Shiro go back to his apartment, he wants to follow him.

 

 _What’s wrong with you?_ he hears someone whisper inside his mind.

 

 

 

 

. 

 

 

 

 

Shiro is a private guy but when the fall comes, the first leaves drop down from the trees, he makes Keith’s secret wish come true and takes him to his apartment, alone.

 

A small part of him is scared, but the contentment that their shared months-long friendship brings overcomes it. Shiro isn’t a guy that he has only met few times. Keith can trust him.

 

Shiro’s apartment isn’t big but his music collection is; CDs, cassette-tapes, vinyls. Keith spots Madonna’s album and raises his eyebrows at Shiro, smirking.

 

“I love _all kind of music_ ,” Shiro answers but a shade of embarrassment is visible on his face.

 

Keith shows him some mercy and doesn’t mock him about it. Shiro doesn’t try to make small-talk, only watches as Keith goes through his collection; that’s one of the many things Keith likes about him.

 

They end up watching Gremlins. Shiro doesn’t have a couch but he has two bean bags. “Lance threw up on the couch,” he explains. “Then Pidge spilt beer on it. I had to throw it away.”

 

“Did they pay you for wrecking it?”

 

“No. They gave me these bean bags. I told them we’d be even if we also played a cover of 'Don’t Worry, Be Happy' on our next gig. Hunk would participate too, of course. He loves that song.”

 

Keith snorts.

 

He falls asleep after Gizmo gets water on himself. It’s late and he’s exhausted from their practice.

 

When he wakes up, the movie has already ended and Shiro is watching some late night show. Keith can feel his hand on his hair. It feels good for a while but then he realizes what is happening; he sits up fast as a lighting, almost hurting his already stiff neck in the process.

 

Shiro looks alarmed, guilty. “I- I’m sorry, Keith. I don’t know why I… I mean- I don’t, I-”

 

Keith is ready to run out of the door, but as he watches Shiro stammer, shame displayed all over his face, he starts to realize that it’s because it’s an automatic reaction, not necessarily what he wants.

 

It felt good to be touched so gently. Be touched by Shiro in such an innocent manner but at the same time intimately.

 

“Shiro,” he breaks his friend’s babble. Shiro stares at him, unsurely, and Keith continues. “It’s okay. It was nice.”

 

“Oh,” Shiro says. His expression turns fond. “Can I…”

 

He doesn’t finish the sentence so Keith does it for him. “Can I hug you?” he asks. He knows it’s a clumsy question and probably not what Shiro had in mind. But it’s something he wants. Nothing less and nothing more.

 

“Of course,” Shiro says. He seems to understand what Keith means; he makes room on the bean bag he’s sitting and Keith slides himself beside him.

 

He carefully wraps his arms around Shiro’s waist. Warmth. So much warmth. Shiro’s fingers are back on his hair and his muscular arm is around Keith’s shoulders.  _Warm._

 

Keith loves it. How can he feel nothing but love?

 

But still, the mere thought of being pressed against another human, against _Shiro,_ naked, without a layer of clothes between them, makes him want to run and he knows for sure that he would follow that urge.

 

“Shiro,” he says softly.

 

Shiro’s “Mhm?” against his hair makes him smile wobbly.

 

“I need to tell you few things.”

 

 

 

 

. 

 

 

 

 

Keith stays the night. They sleep on the bed, without touching, not because Keith doesn’t want to, but because he feels like he needs a time-out. To settle his thoughts and feelings into the right order.

 

But he still doesn’t want to leave Shiro’s side.

 

Hours later, when Keith looks out the window, the morning seems colder than usual. He opens it a crack, smelling the fresh air. He basks in the feel of it on his cheek and nose, smiles when he realizes how calmly his heart is beating. As if everything is like it should be in the world. 

 

Because Shiro accepts him. Shiro understands him.

 

“Morning,” Shiro says from behind him, but Keith doesn’t flinch. He heard Shiro come out of the shower. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah,” Keith says. He turns to Shiro, taking in how comfy and warm he looks in his dark jeans and t-shirt. Keith inspects the print on it. “Unicorn?”

 

“Unicorns are the best mythical creatures.”

 

“I’m not so sure. I think vampires are a bit better.” He touches Shiro’s neck slightly with his fingers. Shiro lets him before grasping his hand inside his own, giving it a squeeze.

 

“Shut up, you’re wrong,” Shiro answers but neither of them can keep the smiles off their faces.

 

Only when they have sat down and eaten breakfast, Keith speaks softly, “I don’t know what I have done to deserve you and the rest of the band. To have someone who understands." All of Shiro’s attention is on him then, his body pressed against Keith’s side. Keith continues, “I’ve always thought I was broken, damaged, or something like that. And maybe I am but now that I have you, it doesn’t matter so much. And what I didn’t realize before is that we all are broken in a way. No one is completely whole. There are only people who act like they are and that’s why they think they’re better than others. Better than me or anyone else who is different.”

 

“I agree and disagree,” Shiro says. He slides his fingers up and down Keith’s back, now that he’s sure Keith allows it again. Keith leans his head against his shoulder. “It’s probably true that all of us are broken. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be whole at the same time. When you accept yourself as you are, then you can start being whole. Because, Keith…” Shiro nudges him a bit so that they are looking at each other in the eyes. “If you think there’s something broken in you, let me tell you that it’s not ugly or disgusting. You’re beautiful in every way.”

 

His throat closes up. He hopes he’s not going to die from a heart-attack because while it would mean that he died happily, it would also mean that he wouldn’t see Shiro again.

 

He loves Shiro. He’s sure of it now.

 

“No,” he says. “You’re the beautiful one, Shiro. You really are.”

 

His words seem to have more impact than he anticipated; something changes in Shiro’s eyes and he avoids Keith’s gaze. Keith feels him try to pull away but Keith grabs his shirt and asks what’s wrong.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Of course I am,” Keith says.

 

“I… couldn’t explain it to you last night because you had your story to tell. But…” he takes Keith’s hand and finally looks at him from the corner of his eye. “I’m the same as you.”

 

 

 

 

. 

 

 

 

 

Shiro is the same.

 

Shiro is like him.

 

Mostly.

 

Shiro has never had a problem with touching, unlike Keith who still can’t fully figure out all the different natures of a touch. Shiro likes kissing and he doesn’t mind watching porn or reading about sex. But like Keith, he wants to keep his clothes on and isn’t interested in experiencing sex personally.

 

Shiro is a few years older than him and he accepts himself a bit better than Keith. He still feels like there is something wrong with him too, but he knows the only wrong thing about him is his own mindset about himself.

 

“My parents have always said that. There is no such thing as normal,” he tells Keith.

 

“You’re parents sound hella awesome.”

 

“They’re hella weird. And I love them,” Shiro says, chuckling.

 

And what does Keith have to say about all that? He feels like the luckiest man on Earth to have found Shiro.

 

He spends the rest of Saturday in Shiro’s arms on the red bean bag, watching sitcoms. They pass popcorn to each other and when it’s dinner time, Keith pays half of the pizza they order.

 

It’s almost 10 pm when Keith drags himself towards Shiro’s door. The hug for several minutes, neither ready to let go. But Keith has to go home and feed his goldfishes.

 

“I found you,” he voices his inner thoughts from before when he pulls away. “I feel like I’ve waited for hundred years and now I found you.”

 

“Hundred years, huh? Like a vampire.” Shiro has the nerve to smile and Keith kicks him in the shin.

 

“You’re making fun of me, you dickweed. See if I ever come back.”

 

“At least I’ll see you in practice.”

 

“Or I won’t show up. You can find a new violinist.”

 

Shiro grabs his wrist before he manages to leave. Keith playfully tries to yank them free but Shiro’s hold is tight. “Impossible. We live in a too shady area to ever find someone as talented as you.”

 

“You’re lucky that I’m broke.”

 

“You can always eat your goldfishes. Or I can feed you if you come here again.”

 

“Fine,” Keith sighs. Shiro lets go of his wrist and Keith starts to play with his fingers. “You talked me into it.”

 

They stand in the doorway, just listening to each other breathe. Keith checks Shiro’s pulse, the playfully scratches his arms with his nails. He glances at Shiro’s face to see if any of the contacts are making him uncomfortable, but Shiro is only smiling, looking at Keith like he is something more than he really is.

 

“Okay, I really have to go now,” he says then, swiping his thumb against Shiro’s jaw.

 

“Call me when you’re home?”

 

“I will.”

 

 

 

 

. 

 

 

 

 

Shiro hasn’t told the band, but he does it when he has Keith beside him. “I’m the same as Keith,” he tells them, exactly like he told Keith.

 

Shiro is the same as Keith. Keith is the same as Shiro.

 

With those words, Keith can feel the broken parts of him amending, slowly but surely. When his friends show the same acceptance to Shiro as they did to Keith, it’s like a soothing balm.

 

He truly is the luckiest man in the world.

 

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

They have their first big gig with Keith in the band, in October. It’s in a small but popular pub.

 

The women are like molten lava in front of Shiro and his husky voice. Keith sweats through his clothes, that’s how much passion and effort he puts into his performance and it pays off. Some people are too drunk to even realize what they are listening to, but most of the crowd seems to like their music, and the applause after every song is a different kind of music itself.

 

They fit well together.

 

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

They all have a Christmas party and Lance invites few of his friends.

 

Keith takes it easy. He’s not entirely comfortable with some people, but he talks more and isn’t as broody as usually. He also isn’t forcing himself this time. When someone comes too close, he tells them no. When someone asks to dance with him, he says he can but only as friends. Some might, will, find it a bit strange but he wants to be honest.

 

He has friends now, he has Shiro. He shouldn’t care what others think.

 

When the party is over, Keith invites Shiro to his place, mostly because the sky is full of stars tonight and Keith has access to the building’s rooftop.

 

As they climb up the narrow stairs, Shiro almost slips, but Keith helps him, pulling him up. “My Prince Charming,” Shiro mutters, making Keith laugh.

 

They spent almost half an hour there, just looking at the stars.

 

After Shiro has named all the constellations he knows, Keith asks, “What are we?”

 

Shiro doesn’t need elaborating. “I don’t know. What do you want us to be?”

 

“I don’t know,” Keith repeats. “I want us to be together. I just want to be with you.” He glances at Shiro, almost chuckles at the way his bangs are dishevelled because of the wind. “What about you?”

 

“I want the same. Just- just us.”

 

Keith understands what he means. He wants that too so he nods. “How about we’re just Shiro and Keith?”

 

Shiro pulls down his scarf just a bit so Keith can see his smile. “I love that,” he says with the same low voice that he sings with.

 

 

 

 

. 

 

 

 

 

It’s almost 2 am and he still hasn’t fallen asleep. He’s too busy staring at Shiro’s small smile and closed eyelids.

 

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Shiro complains.

 

“You said you liked kissing.”

 

Shiro cracks his eyes open, a careful expression on his face.

 

“I want to try it. With you.”

 

“I thought you didn’t like it.” Shiro’s voice is only a soft whisper in the silent room. Like a spell that pulls Keith in.

 

He slides a bit closer. “It’s not as bad as other things.”

 

Shiro puts his palm on his collarbone, keeping the small distance between them and for a second Keith understand how the people he rejected in the past must have felt like. But then Shiro says, “I don’t want you to do it because ‘it’s not that bad’. We can try when or if you really want it too.”

 

“I do want it,” he says. “I wouldn’t even suggest it if I didn’t. It’s different with you. Everything is different with you. I don’t even know why, don’t ask me to explain. But I’ve never lied to you and I’m not starting now.” He feels Shiro’s hand move to his neck, a small permission. He presses his own hand on Shiro’s shoulder gently, and slowly cranes his neck, keeping an eye on Shiro’s reactions; even a small one is enough and he will pull away. Instead, he sees Shiro close his eyes and it makes Keith press his forehead against his. Shiro furrows his brows, waiting.

 

Keith realizes that he lied. He does know why everything is different with Shiro.

 

_Love._

 

His lips meet Shiro’s in a small, soft kiss. It isn’t just a peck because it lasts much longer, but it lacks passion and fervour because it’s a kiss of appreciation and affection. A manifestation of how much Keith treasures the man beside him.

 

The lack of response makes him stop.

 

When Shiro opens his eyes, his gaze is soft, almost dreamy. He isn’t resisting, but holding back.

 

“Shiro,” Keith frowns at him. Shiro gives him an innocent smile and he growls. “You can kiss me back. If you end up doing something I don’t like, which I'm sure you won’t, I’ll knee you on the crotch. I’m not fragile so stop treating me that way.”

 

“Is the promise of a knee on the crotch suppose to sound tempting?” Shiro asks but can’t keep a serious voice.

 

“C’mere, you noob.” Keith pulls him closer by the neck and this time Shiro kisses him back.

 

It’s no use though; they’re laughing too hard. Their teeth clash and Keith accidentally bites Shiro’s lip.

 

Not one muscle in Keith’s body is tense with panic. His heart beats loudly only because of the joy Shiro’s company, his voice, hands and lips bring him.

 

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

Next year, Shiro writes a song about them, "Unicorn and Vampire". It's a bizarre song about a vampire that works in a coffee shop and then falls in love with a unicorn. That same year, Shiro dyes his bangs white and Keith doesn't know if he wants to kick him or kiss him. He does the latter of course.

 

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s the year 2012 and they say that the world is going to end in December.

 

Part of Keith doesn’t care. He’s lived a good life. He knows who he is and he has people who love him.

 

He even has a term that defines him know. Asexual. He knows there are many other terms and he has decided to do some research and write them all down as soon as summer vacation starts since he is packed with work at the moment. He also has a Shiro to entertain, the old band to see at least once a week, it’s a promise they all made after going on their separate ways six years ago, and too many dogs to take out and feed, so his life is pretty hectic.

 

But he wouldn’t change it. He’s happy and if the apocalypse is going to happen, he will die happy, much like the time when he was sure his heart was going to burst when Shiro told him that he was beautiful.

 

Still, the bigger part of him is greedy. He is 46 years old, he still has many years left and he wants to live them. He wants more of Shiro’s kisses, more of visits to Japan, more of them, Lance, Hunk andPidge playing together for old times sakes. He still wants to write more songs, look at the old pictures, clean up his violin, clean up their house, lose his temper with their dogs when they break something, argue with Shiro about petty things like if they should eat sushi four times a week or not.

 

He’s whole and he wants to experience every second of it.

 

 

 

 

. 

 

 

 

 

December comes and goes. When the year turns into 2013, Keith stands outside with his friends, looking at the fireworks, listens to his friends chat and burrows his face into Shiro’s neck like he has done many times before and never intends to stop.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I may write and share that song that Shiro wrote.


End file.
